


Amuse Me

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-Squip, internalized ableism, negative self-talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-17 00:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14176593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Jeremy can’t take his medicine without calling Michael after, just to make sure the pills haven’t deleted him. Post-Squip.





	Amuse Me

One pill, two pills, and a glass of water to wash them down. They stick in Jeremy’s throat—chalky, small and comfortingly un-minty. Just some normal pills. Just a normal night. The normalest, exactly like Jeremy himself. He's got to be the normalest kid to have ever swallowed a computer and set it loose to wreak havoc on his brain. There's nothing to freak out about. 

Jeremy shuts his eyes so tight he thinks his eyeballs might roll back into his skull from the pressure. When he opens them, his room is ordinary and non-threatening, deliberately unmade bed and all. 

He calls Michael. 

“Hey man.” 

There’s no indication in Michael’s voice that he might resent this nightly ritual of Jeremy calling him after he takes his shiny new antidepressants. There’s a dull shuffling sound, probably Michael shifting around on his bed. 

“Hey,” Jeremy echoes. He never has enough to say during these phone calls, which makes them ~~all the more pathetic~~ kinda weird, probably. He doesn't care what Michael says either… or rather he _does_ care, because of course the things that Michael says are interesting to listen to, but it's more about hearing his voice. Michael’s voice is important. It's warm.

“Awesome night over here at the Mell abode,” says Michael. “I found some new cheat codes and an entire gay island online. I think they’re at war with Australia. I’ll give you three guesses on topic of tonight's Ted Talk.”

“Uh…” 

“Snake Rattle and Roll!”

“Song?” 

“Video game!” Michael lets out one of those short laughs that are just so _him_. Jeremy’s throat stops feeling like it's full of cement. He flops down onto his bed, phone pressed to his ear. It doesn't take any more prompting to get Michael to explain the game in detail. It's something for Nintendo 64, and it wasn't popular even back when 64 _was_ , but that's just typical Michael, with his weird weird weird games.

“So, get this, you’re like this snake—”

Jeremy lets go of the worry that maybe he said the wrong things at lunch, or that maybe his teachers hate him, or that he got asked to go down to the special ed classroom for testing, and he's not sure if he can deal with something else being wrong with him.

“—with sunglasses!”

Jeremy unclenches his jaw. 

“And, you’re in this castle where you gotta find these snake-berries, and every time you eat one you get longer.” 

The only voices Jeremy can hear are his own and Michael’s. That omnipresent _other_ slips away. 

“So eventually, you’re this hella long snake, which makes it harder to navigate and avoid monsters and all that, because you’re freakin’ huge, but the goal is to get even bigger.” 

Jeremy doesn't feel so much like Michael is going to disappear anymore. Like, his medicine is technically mind-altering, but it's not dripping with science fiction style evil. Things are okay. Michael exists. He won't stop existing. He’ll be at school tomorrow, and he’ll also be one hundred percent visible, even to Jeremy. 

“You good?” Michael asks. “You can either go to sleep or get a play by play of the first three levels. The choice is yours.” 

“Play by play,” Jeremy says. He doesn't feel pathetic at all. He doesn't! He loves listening to Michael. He loves listening to Michael, and playing it off like it's something casual. “I'm not sure I could sleep without knowing what happens to your long ass snake.”

“Awesome!” Michael sounds like he means it. “I don't get why nobody knows about this game. Level one if fucking masterful. It's, like, a fine vintage art form that the entire world has missed, except for you and me…”. 

Jeremy lets his eyes drift shut. He wishes Michael would say _you and me_ again. Jeremy appreciates things like that more than he did before the Squip. He appreciates _Michael_ more than he did before the Squip. It’s sort of like how most people never stop to appreciate the wonders of oxygen, but anybody who’s ever had an asthma attack knows how good it can feel to take an easy breath. Micheal makes things easy. Whatever his current bizarre obsession is, he’s willing to take Jeremy along for the ride, and make sure his seatbelt is securely fastened before setting off. It’s a good feeling. It's…

“You asleep yet?” 

“Huh?” Jeremy rubs his eyes. 

“Trying to figure out if you want another bedtime story. Once upon a time there was a good wittle snake, who symbolized…”

“Asshole.” 

“Close enough.” 

Jeremy rolls over on his back. He can practically hear Michael smiling. His chest is fluttery, the same way it gets around Christine, which means he can either ignore the fuck out of that, or else analyze how both Christine and Michael are enthusiastic talkers, and it's nice to listen to people be who like stuff talk about liking stuff, and also there's totally nothing else to it. 

“You don't mind that I do this, right?” Jeremy asks. “Like… like call you and get you to talk about stuff.” 

“Nah, you’re good. Plug in your phone before you go to bed, or your alarm won't go off in the morning, and you’ll be screwed.” 

Jeremy nods, even though Michael can't see him. There's something else that he wants to say. He doesn't know what it is. 

“Night Michael,” he says, instead of what he means. 

“Night!” 

_Goodnight Michael, love you_ sneers the voice in Jeremy’s head. All the tenseness is back. It's like the damn thing has a new strategy, where it says what Jeremy is actually thinking, but makes it sound so goddamned stupid that Jeremy wishes he'd never thought it at all. He groans, and and finds Christine in his contacts. Time for round two of counting his blessings that even if he's brain fucked, at least his favorite people never shut up, and it takes very little prompting to get them going. 

Christine answers the phone on the third ring. 

“It's two in the morning. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. I'm… I’m… uh… the actor who played the guy who sang the song? I'm kinda drawing a blank here, but do you know about all of them?”

Christine sighs. “You just want me to talk, right?” 

“I… maybe? Yeah. Yes.” 

“Right. Well, I've been thinking about the validity of bootlegs. I've been thinking about it a lot, actually. Are you ready for this?” 

“I've never been more ready for anything in my life.”


End file.
